Captain Saint Nick
by Twist
Summary: A little, fluffy Christmas ficlet. A certain newlywed couple is visited Christmas Eve by a certain drunken pirate. X-mas present from me to the 'net in general. :


Captain Saint Nick  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Johnny Depp is not my uncle. I do, however, own one very comfy pair of X-mas PJs. But no matter. Read, enjoy, and review if you feel charitable. Happy Holidays.  
  
*  
  
Will Turner gently kissed Elizabeth, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. They both grinned and giggled slightly. As one, they turned and looked out of the window.  
  
"Beautiful night for Christmas," Elizabeth said, smiling. Will nodded.  
  
The view was wonderful. The stars speckled the purple night sky over Port Royal's harbor and the water was calm, reflecting the light into the heavens.  
  
Will squeezed his new wife closer to him and they settled together comfortably. He was just beginning to relax when a thought jumped to light in his mind.  
  
"What do you suppose Jack's doing?"  
  
Elizabeth chuckled. "No doubt cuddling the helm of his precious Pearl and knocking back large amounts of rum."  
  
Will grinned. "Bloody pirates have the best Christmases." Elizabeth looked slightly affronted. "But I'm not a pirate, Elizabeth, so I would much rather be here with you."  
  
"You're sweet, Will," she said. A warm breeze blew in the open window as the two snuggled closer together.  
  
*  
  
Jack Sparrow lay back on the beach and looked up at the stars. The waves were lapping gently up onto the shore and around his bare feet. A large, unopened bottle of rum had been secured in the sand beside him and a smaller, half-full bottle was resting in the palm of his hand.  
  
He chuckled slightly to himself and knocked back another gulp of the sweet stuff. The Pearl was tied offshore, bobbing gently in the waves. The crew was onboard; Gibbs had managed to cook some sort of animal and they were having a party. Jack would normally have been the roaring drunk member of the festivities, but now that he was captain that just wouldn't do.  
  
So he had muttered an excuse and slipped away. And now he was lounging on a beach, getting drunk, and waiting for midnight when he could go and spread joy to a certain couple.  
  
All in all, he reflected as he took another gulp of the spicy nectar, not a bad way to spend the holidays.  
  
*  
  
When Will and Elizabeth woke up Christmas morning, they snuggled in bed for some time. Finally, Elizabeth brushed some hair out of Will's eyes and grinned. "I think we ought to go see just what good old Saint Nick has brought this year." She made to get up, but was pulled back down by her very sleepy husband.  
  
"Don't be silly, Elizabeth. It's perfectly comfortable here."  
  
"Well fine then. But I'm off to have breakfast anyway." Will felt Elizabeth leave the bed and heard her slowly pad out of the room. He had expected a few more minutes of silence but hysterical laughter almost immediately came from the parlor. Mumbling sleepily, Will rolled out of bed and plodded down the stairs.  
  
He started laughing as soon as he saw the state of the parlor. There were silver decorations haphazardly placed around the room and gold baubles lying about. And, central to it all, was a very large bottle of rum.  
  
"It never occurred to me that Saint Nicholas might be a drunken pirate," Will said, still chuckling. "I'm surprised there was any rum left. He must have exercised and awful lot of self-control."  
  
"Well he is Captain Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly, though her face portrayed a much more jovial mood. She frowned suddenly, pensive.  
  
"What's wrong?" Will asked, still grinning. "Wondering where to burn the rum?"  
  
"No. I just feel bad that we didn't have anything for him."  
  
Will shrugged. "He'll probably come back in a month or so and demand payment. Now, since I'm up, how about that breakfast?"  
  
*  
  
Later, Will went out to the forge to work a little bit. He enjoyed his job, so working on Christmas day was not the chore many of people would have expected it to be. He was working on another sword for Commodore Norrington - this time a retirement gift. But as he reached for where it ought to be, he found its place empty. He was puzzled at first, but a grin slowly broke out across his face and he merely shook his head, letting his outstretched hand fall to his side.  
  
"Well, Happy Christmas Jack. And I suppose you helped yourself."  
  
*  
  
Jack Sparrow stood at the helm of his precious Pearl - steering her and one very hung-over crew to nowhere in particular. He shifted from on foot to the other and felt the strange weight of the new sword shift on his hips. The winds changed, and with a grin he turned the wheel and went with them. 


End file.
